


Stuck Like Glue

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Series: Lay All Your Love On Me [1]
Category: Ladyhawke (1985), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wishes he had fairytale romance. Derek wonders if everyone's true love is this oblivious or is it just him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck Like Glue

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what Ladyhawke is. Except a film with a curse and Matthew Broderick is in it. So I'm ladyhawking up Teen Wolf. See that? I made up a word. Please let me know if this makes sense. Un-beta'd so be kind. And comments, I live for them.

It's a waning moon night. A waning crescent if Stiles was going for technically accurate. So visibility is pretty craptastic if you're a two-legged human tromping through the forest after a wolf. So after the fifth branch to the face, Stiles is irritated. Maybe approaching Derek levels of surly. From what he's seen from his vantage point during the day, Derek is broody over sunlight and butterflies. 

"This sucks," he finally declares, rasping for air at the vicious pace Derek has been setting for them.

Derek does that not quite growl thing at him as he lopes back in his graceful lupine form. His inky black coat giving him an eerie supernatural grace as he moves seamlessly through the darkness towards Stiles.

"I know you think it does too," grumbles Stiles, looking at Derek who looks longsufferingly even as a wolf. Stiles didn't think a wolf could pull off a bitch face. Derek does it with a certain flair. "But what sucks the most is, I spend my nights like this. And you get to be all one with the night and all the while I trip over tree rot. Rot not roots. Decaying moss like things. I'm a freaking bird in the day. The day. When pie is being baked. And people are out and about. Nice people. People who enjoy conversation and don't carry weapons and give off creepy vibes. The only kicks I get is occasionally crapping on couples who don't get the memo on public displays of affection. I mean, what happened to chivalry? Does anyone court nowadays?"

Derek gives a low rumbling growl, the kind that send shivers down Stiles' back. Stiles is still trying to remember he can't fly away at a sign of danger. Not like he'd ever leave Derek. They're stuck in this mess together. He always comes back. Even when Derek makes it clear he wants Stiles gone. Derek has a lot of bad days. Stiles thinks he should eat more pie. Or crack a smile. He at least gets to enjoy the day. 

"Yeah, I know. Maybe tonight we'll be lucky enough to break the curse and you won't be stuck with me anymore. That should be music to your wolfy ears. No more Stiles."

They don't even have the advantage of being star crossed lovers. Curses work better for those. Or horribly. Stiles can't remember. Either way, he hopes Scott and Allison are making the most of Stiles' noble sacrifice. Gods knows why Derek stuck his neck out for the couple at the last moment when Stiles was facing off with that warlock. But here they are now. Cursed. And Stiles didn't even get any bend at the knees action for it. Not even a kiss.

Derek's snout bumps Stiles' leg softly and his teeth grip his pant's leg making him stop his trek through the dimly lit forest and not so interior monologue. Stiles flails a bit, arms pinwheeling, before looking down at Derek, who's green eyes flare luminescently in the darkness.

"Did you hear something?" Stiles quirks his head to the left but his senses are duller than a butter knife now, even worse he has a tendency to talk without realising it. Being a bird for half the day can do that. Stiles hopes he didn't offend Derek, last thing he needs is to be left alone in this creepy forest.

Derek just pulls at his pants until Stiles is looking up at the night sky from the forest floor with Derek looming over him. His sharp eyes locking with Stiles' warm honey brown ones. Stiles heart quickens minutely as Derek towers over him.

"Hey, go easy on me. I'll try to keep up. I'm not used to having legs most of the time," he grumbles until Derek's snout noses between the junction of his neck and collar and laves at it.

"Urgh, wolf slobbers," grouses Stiles but gets head butted by Derek. Enough to rattle his teeth. "Oi! What was that for?"

But Derek is already lopping off towards their next lead. A witch this time. Stiles hopes they get there before dawn. Derek's terrible at talking to strangers.

"If I knew you could be romantic, I'd say you were flirting," mumbles Stiles under his breath. He dusts himself off from the ground.

The pace is slower this time. Derek loping back every so often, his flank brushing up on Stiles' side, herding him from the most treacherous pitfalls of the forest floor. 

And it's almost a moonlight walk, well, except for the lack of a moon. If you want to get technical. Stiles oddly doesn't. His hand brushes Derek's side, gripping the soft fur gently as they make their way to a new day. He feels at peace, like soaring, except it's not daybreak. He's got Derek to figure out the rest. He wouldn't want to ruin the moment.


End file.
